Loopholes
by ImpossiblePoet
Summary: Two pasts. One present. Uncountable uncovered secrets... Constance is faced with an infuriating character who makes her realise that even strength can be a weakness...in a world where magic suffers in the presence of loopholes !ALMOST DONE!
1. PreviewSnippets

**_AN_: Just a few snippets to keep me happy and to be a bit of a tease...I'd like to write my ideas up as a proper story after my exams...12 more days...**

**Let me know if you have any thoughts, I was trying not to give too much away but hopefully it's not complete nonsense! :)**

* * *

"_I get this sense that I'm not the only one with scars..."_

* * *

_Her disapproval was the lovechild of the King of Tuts and the Queen of Sighs. Everyone knew the level of Constance Hardbroom's standards, yet few had the honour of living up to them. Had it not been for such a horrendous clattering sound, that moment may not have been surrendered to sipping tea and silently cursing the curse of clumsiness._

* * *

"_I challenge you, you pathetic freak, a witches' duel...and you know what my prize shall be"_

* * *

_It would be surprising if there was anyone in the world who didn't feel at least a part of the anger that was so apparent in her eyes. In the last moment of the fight, a strange glint passed through her eyes, like the sight of bloodstained metal as she cast the final spell. She stood above her weakened prey, and whispered words that were all too familiar to Constance's ears. A sharp shriek filled the air. Constance dematerialised before she had the chance to see any more, but she knew what had been done; Hecate Broomhead had finally tasted her own vicious poison._

* * *

"_You and me, Constance, we were brought up in a world that told us to believe, without proof, that there are such things as truth and justice, and that the good will always triumph over the evil. I guess now we know that that is just not true."_

* * *

_They both knew how it was to hear death's call at nightfall. But it appeared that some of the greatest things looked their best in the gathering darkness._

* * *

"_I quite like it on this rooftop with you"_


	2. Chapter 1

_Confidence and control_. Calm indifference and composure was the giver of sanity and strength for Constance Hardbroom, and was such a necessity for her in the staff room, especially now, with such a chaotic character thrown into the mix. As she sipped her first tea of the term, she surveyed the newest member of staff who had been shooed in with the sixth form scrapings from some ridiculous closed-down day witch-school; Lacewing Academy. Miss Rocky Fluxweed. _What kind of a name was that anyway? _Miss Hardbroom couldn't deny that they needed an extra teacher with the number of new students they had taken on this year, not to mention the fact that there would be an extra class. Although exactly why Miss Cackle had thought it would be appropriate to just _insert_ a sixth form composed mostly of girls from a completely different school, was still not clear to her. _And their tutor!_ Her hair was an untidy mixture of shades of red and brown; she wore _jeans_ underneath her red and black witch's cloak, whose pockets were also particularly _rattly_ whenever she moved around; she was also wearing fingerless gloves despite it being a warm summery day; and she had been _continuously _eating biscuits all morning. She moved to glance out of the window, catching a glimpse of some of the new girls _frolicking_ in the courtyard. _Some discipline will need to be in order for these girls, especially with a tutor like_

"Why on earth are you wearing _those_?" Her gaze had fallen to Rocky's trainer-clad feet, which she had rested on a spare chair.

Rocky looked from her new colleague's face to her own feet and back again, taking a moment to realise what she had meant.

"Oh, sorry," she said, still munching on her current biscuit, "I don't fly well in heels," whipped up her spell-casting fingers and transformed her shoes into something more _appropriate, _pretending to ignore Miss Hardbroom's slight scowl. Watching the tall witch as she turned back towards the teapot, Rocky wondered just how _appropriate_ a person could be.

* * *

"Alright, girls?" Rocky had been put in charge of supervising dinner, and was using the opportunity to catch up with some of the girls from her class, "I hope you've all had an enjoyable day?"

Fenella and Griselda were amongst the sixth years who had returned to Cackle's alongside the girls from the former day witch-school. They had been in the middle of telling Mags and Kada, two of the new girls, how Miss Hardbroom was known to turn sub-standard pupils into slimy frogs and warty toads.

Rocky noticed the disgusted look which was still clearly evident on Mags's face, and Fenella and Griselda's sly smirks.

"Well, I bet I can tell what you four have just been discussing," a smirk flickered across her face as she waved a hand in front of her as though reading a news broadcast, "Evil teacher transforms pesky student into soggy pond creature..."

Fenella and Griselda exchanged '_how did she get that?'_ looks, whereas Mags and Kada both suppressed a giggle; over their years at day witch school, they had grown accustomed to Miss Fluxweed's uncanny ability to tell exactly what was happening in a situation.

"I know exactly who you were talking about too, and I would advise you," she paused, "not to"

"Why don't you teach us potions, Miss?" Griselda asked cheekily, "Mags said you taught them sometimes at Lacewing-"

"What I did at Lacewing Academy is... irrelevant now," she scowled at the girls, "I promised you the best when we came to Cackle's, and whether you like it or not, Miss Hardbroom is the best."

With that, she stood up, shaking her hands to release her casting fingers from her cuffs and began to magically clear the remaining debris from the other tables, musing on how she had just defended someone she hardly even knew. Maybe she was a little in awe of her colleague; perhaps even a little jealous. She had barely seen Miss Hardbroom perform any magic, but she could tell how powerful the other witch clearly was.

* * *

Constance glared at the newcomer across the dinner table. She was truly irritated by her few brief encounters with Rocky, but she couldn't decide what, in particular, was so annoying about the woman. She despised the way she presented herself; she disapproved of her general attitude. Despite those irritating gloves – _if you could call them gloves;_ Constance had thought of them as rather inconvenient to a witch – she had noticed how her new colleague cast spells in the same way that she did, yet she seemed to use magic for the most trivial things... and she certainly didn't like that.


	3. Chapter 2

Amelia was rather satisfied that the first few days of term had gone reasonably smoothly. The new students were settling in nicely, and there had been no serious incidents or misbehaviour from any of the girls. She was surprised, however, to see Rocky eating toast when she entered the staffroom early on Saturday morning. Having worked in a day witch-school previously, Amelia had not expected Rocky to be keen to work at the weekend.

"Miss Fluxweed!" Rocky almost dropped her plate in surprise. "What are you doing here? It's the weekend... isn't it?"

"Oh, morning Miss Cackle," Rocky smiled, "I was just thinking that my girls might find it a bit odd to be in school at the weekend. I thought I'd take some of them out for a broomstick ride down to the river or something. If that's ok, I mean"

"Ah, yes of course" Amelia agreed, "Take one of the other teachers with you too, if you're flying, you've got to have eyes everywhere with some of these girls!"

She chuckled before walking across the room to help herself to a cup of tea, almost skidding on something on the way.

"Did you spill this jam over here?" she asked in surprise.

"I wouldn't be surprised" The deputy's voice slightly preceded her body's appearance into the room.

"No, I haven't spilt anything today!" said Rocky, indignantly and truthfully.

"Well," Constance glanced at the mess, "The jam on the floor says otherwise"

Rocky scowled. She might have been a bit clumsy from time to time, but not this time. _She didn't even like jam._

"Constance," Amelia spoke, noticing a slight tension brewing, "Rocky is going to take some of the girls out today, and as you are also in here so early, I should like for you to accompany them"

"Oh, headmistress, I-" she protested pointlessly.

"That's settled that, then"

* * *

"She's kind of like HB, but a different sort of scary. The girls at Lacewing's used to say she could read -"

"Enid Nightshade!" Enid froze, before slowly turning around to face Rocky who had just walked out of the castle doors. "I know that look. If I catch you spreading any pointless gossip, I will give you lines, and I will watch you write them so that you can't use magic to _cheat_!"

"Sorry, Miss" she mumbled quickly.

"And if you _are_ going to discuss other people, at least use their actual names, it's much more polite..." she looked at each of the other girls, "And you must be Mildred? Tie your laces, would you? I'd rather nobody tripped over them!"

"Yes, Miss," Mildred bent down to tie her boot laces.

"Miss Fluxweed?" Mags interrupted, "Might we be able to take a ball and have a game of catch by the river?"

"I don't see why not," Rocky replied, "Why don't you girls get your broomsticks and then go and ask Miss Drill if she has anything you can borrow?"

As the girls scuttled off to the broomshed, Miss Hardbroom appeared, dressed appropriately for flying. _Unlike some people_, she thought, looking at Rocky, who, for some reason had decided to dress more like Miss Drill on this particular day. The only unusual thing was those infuriating glove things she was still wearing. Constance sighed and picked up her broom, simultaneously peering at Rocky's broom.

"Is that a racing broom?" she asked, hoping that the apprehension she had briefly felt was masked by her steely voice.

"Mmm" Rocky smiled proudly, "It's a Thestalos Firetwig, they only ever made a few 'cos people didn't seem to like the speed"

She held out the broom so that her colleague could see it properly.

"You can give it a whirl if you want" she offered, in an attempt to be friendly.

"I think I would prefer not"

Rocky shrugged and sat on her broom, tucking one leg underneath her. She took off and joined the girls who were already in the air waiting for them, intercepting the basketball that was already being passed between them.

"_Is this woman completely undignified!" _Thought Constance, as she observed her flying technique, but she decided not to make a comment as she guided her broomstick to keep up. As she surveyed the girls, she was pleased to notice that none of them seemed to have picked up Rocky's bad flying habits, but was less than happy that some of the new girls also rode rather quick broomsticks. She was struggling to keep an eye on everyone with the ball flying about, too, which made her feel slightly uneasy.

Rocky whacked the ball ahead; she had enchanted it so that it only fell slowly, and dropped back behind the group so that she could see everyone better.

"Decent flying weather," she commented, noticing her colleague's expression as she drew level with her, "I guess you disapprove of the ball..." She rolled her eyes slightly.

"Actually," Constance replied, "I do. Does it not seem rather dangerous to you, not to mention particularly undignified? I did accept the condition that they would play with it _on the ground_"

"I suppose I did say that," Rocky admitted, "Kada! Pass the ball here, please!"

Barely looking, Kada pelted the ball over her shoulder, with a little too much gusto. The ball zoomed straight past Rocky's face towards Miss Hardbroom, who caught it but overbalanced slightly. The teachers' broomsticks collided as Rocky had instinctively moved to make sure her colleague didn't fall backwards.

Rocky let out a snort of laughter, "Alright," she said, "I see your point"

"Would you mind keeping your distance?" Constance shook her head in annoyance as she zapped the ball into oblivion.

* * *

"I'm afraid I can't return your ball, Miss Drill," Rocky helped herself to one of Imogen's biscuits, "A certain person zapped it" She glanced mischievously at Constance, who ignored her. "Are you _still_ annoyed with me, Miss Hardbroom?"

"Why's she annoyed with you?" Imogen asked curiously.

"She practically crashed into me this morning" Constance replied.

"It was rather _undignified_" Rocky admitted, but couldn't help giggling slightly.

"Not a particularly good example to set for the girls" snarled Constance, rolling her eyes.

"They weren't even looking, and I've apologised! It was instinctive; you looked like you would fall-"

"May I remind you, Miss Fluxweed," she spoke through gritted teeth, "That I am a witch, and that witches do not simply fall out of the sky if they are hit with a ridiculous rubber ball!"

"Well I'm obviously stupid. I didn't think did I? I _am_ sorry, Constance"

Constance glared at her for a moment, trying to recall the point when they had reached first-name terms. Imogen, meanwhile, kept quiet; she knew what it was like to be on the receiving end of the deputy headmistress's frustration and to try to earn the witch's approval. The silence was only then broken when Miss Bat noisily entered the room, eating jam straight from the jar.


	4. Chapter 3

The girls had just returned from picking herbs to store in the potions lab, and were watching Rocky being irritated and attempting to brush the 'greenness' from her cuffs.

"Why does she always wear those things?" Miss Bat pondered aloud.

"She always has done," shrugged Mags, "If they weren't different ones occasionally, I'd think they were sown to her hands!" The girls giggled as they made their way to the hall for breakfast.

* * *

"If anyone wants any stickyweed..." Miss Bat sang, taking a piece from the back of Rocky's cloak as the teachers gathered in the staffroom at breakfast time, "It's actually very good for keeping warm in the autumn winds..."

"Urgh," sighed Rocky, helping herself to tea as Constance materialized behind her.

"Dammit!" she muttered as she knocked over the sugar dish with her spoon.

"Now what have you done?" Constance sighed with exasperation, not even bothering to look as she helped herself to a breakfast plate.

"It's you; you scare the hell out of me, just randomly appearing like that!" Rocky snapped, shooting a glare at the woman's unnaturally straight back.

"What-"

"It's true, Constance," Imogen smirked, "She was being completely dignified until you came in"

The taller witch rolled her eyes at the room in general before vanishing herself and her still-empty plate.

"It'd be fine if she appeared over there," Rocky gestured towards the other side of the room, sighing in annoyance "She always does it next to me! Always acting like she's the only witch in the world that can do anything!" _Maybe it is jealousy, then_, she thought, "Anyway, I suppose I'd better go and get changed; I'm not walking around covered in bits of plants all day..."

* * *

Constance could never have explained what she was doing. At times like this, she was proud of her ability to master such skills as invisibility without having to resort to taking a less reliable potion. Still holding the plate in her hand, she silently paced into Rocky's room. Her sense of wonder was far greater than her appetite at that moment in time, anyway. By now, she had heard countless rumours about this witch, and despite her irksome nature, Constance had become rather curious about her. Constance was not usually one for snooping around, and was unsure how to start. Her decision time was cut short, however, by the sound of the door opening behind her. She whipped around, moving quickly away from the door so that she wouldn't be walked into.

Rocky's eyes widened as she entered the room.

"Hold it!" she held up a hand; her head had just inexplicably filled with sourceless wonder and curiosity.

In a moment of self-doubt, Constance looked down at herself, checking that she was, in fact, invisible.

The hairs on Rocky's neck prickled slightly as she moved her hand through the air in front of her. She felt something in the air change as Constance experienced a rare wave of apprehension and backed towards the opposite wall, holding her breath and being extra careful not to drop the plate; Rocky was slowly advancing on her.

"Invisibility, perhaps, a little ghostie?" she murmured, "An ever-so-slightly fearful _sneak_?"

As she said the last word, her hand clutched dangerously close to the invisible witch's face. Constance quickly regained her senses and magically transported herself to the potions lab, where she tightly gripped the edge of her desk, breathing heavily as the breakfast plate crashed to her feet.


	5. Chapter 4

Rocky was not particularly perturbed by the morning's incident. She had picked up on things that were not truly there before. Regrettably her magic had, in recent years become rather chaotic and less reliable. Crossed wires and interference were unfortunately becoming all too common. _But it's to be expected._ What was unexpected, and rather unnerving, however, was the potions mistress's incessant disapproval. Rocky tidied her hair as she pondered what must be done. She settled on the idea of speaking to Constance. She would prove her worth, eventually.

She folded her arms, concentrating intensely on a magic she had long since used.

She stumbled slightly as she appeared in the potions lab a second later.

"Bit out of practice," she mumbled to herself, although she was actually pretty satisfied. She quickly turned around, mildly disappointed to see that the potions teacher was not sitting at her desk. _Typical._ She folded her arms again.

Her appearance in the staff room, however, was slightly off-target. She collided rather forcefully with a chair, almost sending it toppling over, along with the books that had been stacked on the seat.

Rocky's eyes briefly met with the glare of a certain colleague. Her disapproval was the lovechild of the King of Tuts and the Queen of Sighs. Everyone knew the level of Constance Hardbroom's standards, yet few had the honour of living up to them. Had it not been for such a horrendous clattering sound, that moment may not have been surrendered to sipping tea and silently cursing the curse of clumsiness. But as Constance quickly looked back to her drink, a déjà vu sense of apprehension flickered through Rocky's mind.

Shrugging it off and neatening the pile of books, she suddenly noticed a considerably deep cut across her fingertips. She held them to her mouth for a moment without feeling any pain. She hoped that no disaster had been caused by her departure from the potions lab, but decided to check later. Nobody said a word as she took her usual place at the table, laying her red and black clock over the back of the chair, and curling her fingers underneath those trademark cuffs to hide the blood.

Eventually, it was the sports mistress who broke the spell of silence.

"So, are magical powers really determined by heritage?" Imogen had recently formed a habit of reading up on various aspects of witchcraft in the library, and then quizzing the other teachers about whatever fascinating things she had discovered.

"To some extent, yes," Constance explained, guiltily sneaking another glare at Rocky as she added, "But dedication and discipline are of utmost importance, too"

"Lines of heritage tend to determine your capacity for magic," Rocky added, keen to prove her magical knowledge despite the previous demonstration of patchy ability, "It doesn't have a huge effect in everyday witchcraft, but it would come down to it in a duel or something like that"

"The winner of a duel, for example, can usually be predicted by the witches' lines of heritage" said Constance in agreement "There are _certain_ witches, whom it would be very unwise to challenge"

"Silver steel" chirped Davina.

"What?" said Imogen, turning to look at her.

"Silver steel witches." She spoke as if pointing out something incredibly simple, "The purest line of magical blood in history, there's barely any of them left, but they're supposed to be almost invincible"

"I can only imagine what that would be like," Imogen, who didn't have an ounce of magical power, mused in awe on the thought of the purest, most powerful lines of magical heritage, "To be more or less _untouchable_"

There was a brief pause while Rocky broke a biscuit in half with one hand.

"I wouldn't say that"

Imogen raised her eyebrows in questioning.

"Nothing's truly untouchable," she reasoned, dipping the biscuit into her drink, "Isn't that right, Miss Hardbroom?"

The taller witch did not respond; her eyes widened as she turned away from the table. She was overcome by a terrible feeling that Rocky knew _something. Is it that obvious? No. No, it most definitely isn't. Don't be so ridiculous, Constance. Rocky couldn't possibly... could she, though? _

"I would think most of the ones who are still around these days are in hiding or something," Davina chipped in again, "I expect power like that could attract quite a lot of trouble"


	6. Chapter 5

"Does anyone know anything about these?"

The teachers turned away from their previous conversation to see Amelia standing in the doorway with several round, glowing red and orange objects floating beside her head.

"Magic energy orbs," Rocky smiled, scooping them into one mass and clicking her fingers to extinguish them, "Givers of warmth and light. I conjured them this afternoon when some of the girls said they were cold"

"Ah, thankyou," the headmistress looked relieved, "They've been following me since I popped to the store cupboard. Honestly, I wasn't too sure what they were!"

Although Rocky had created them, it was now Constance who shifted slightly guiltily.

"I confiscated them, Miss Cackle," she admitted quietly, "And I put them in the cupboard to keep them safely out of the way. They are certainly not _approved_ magic."

"Not approved magic?" Rocky gave her an incredulous look.

"No, no, not now, ladies," Amelia shook her head, not in the mood for any bickering, and wanting to crack on, "I have some... bad news, about this Thursday" She sighed as she took her seat at the table.

"Gah, I hate Thursdays in general," Rocky interrupted, retaking her own seat.

Miss Bat looked intrigued. "Why-"

"May I finish, please?" said Amelia, taking a deep breath, "This Thursday, regrettably, we will have a visitor, at the request of Mr Hallow and the governors...something about checking up on the new intake"

"Why is that bad news?" Imogen asked, looking surprised at the headmistress's lack of enthusiasm. "Wait...who is it?"

"Mistress Hecate Broomhead"

There was a clattering sound as someone dropped their teaspoon to the floor. Everyone looked at Rocky, but this time she was not the source of a clattering disaster.

"Apologies," a quiet voice came from the other end of the table, "Excuse me."

With that, Constance folded her arms and vanished.

Rocky took a large sip from her glass of water, experiencing feelings of discontent and fear that were not entirely hers.

"I suppose that concludes that, then," Amelia sighed.

"Well we're going to have to be on top form, she's awful... Have you come across her before, Rocky?" said Imogen, noticing the woman's prolonged silence and strange expression "Why are you just sitting there not saying anything?"

Rocky scowled at her for a moment.

"I wasn't 'just sitting there'..." she told her, "I'd just had a gulp of water that was too big and I was struggling to swallow it..."


	7. Chapter 6

"I thought I'd find you up here"

Constance had been sitting on the apex of the castle roof, and would have been surprised on hearing the voice, had it not been for the great clattering noise Rocky had made when she had landed on the slates behind her. She rolled her eyes, dismayed by the witch's broomstick technique and general clumsiness. She was rather chilled, however, by her colleague's words – It was common knowledge that Constance had several 'solitude spots'; it was no secret that she would sneak away alone at times, the dungeon was quite a well-known retreat, but that spot on the rooftop was a place she had regarded as just hers.

"How on earth could you possibly-"

"It wasn't the first place I looked," Rocky interrupted, thinking that she'd predicted what Constance was about to say, "But I've seen you up here before, when I've been out flying. I don't know about you but I find heights qu-"

"What I was going to say," a slightly disturbed Constance interjected, scowling, "was how on earth could you fly like that?"

"How- what d'you mean?" Rocky knew exactly what she meant. Many people had commented on her flying, but she was trying to stay in conversation.

"Not to mention the speed of those things," she glanced nervously at the broomstick behind them before quickly adding, "a little too undignified"

"Oh, shush with your _dignity_! It's an amazing feeling, Constance, the height and the speed... it takes all the cobwebs away!" Rocky let out a short laugh.

"Don't-"

"I'm sorry," she quickly regretted the dignity comment, "I just think... you should try it, it's not all that bad"

"Well I disagree." Although she could not admit it, Constance felt slightly threatened by magic that she felt was not completely at her command. She did not see the rational need for such a fast broomstick. Momentarily though, she wanted to escape; she fleetingly considered taking the wretched broom to see whether it really could _take the cobwebs away_.

"Are you just being irritating or did you have a particular reason to want to find me?"

"I," Rocky hesitated, thinking that her colleague would not appreciate being worried about, her thoughts flicked back to wanting to make amends, "I just... wanted to speak to you. I know we haven't been on the best of terms – I do annoy the hell out of you, don't I?" She grinned, trying to catch Constance's gaze.

"I'm not entirely sure why that is" they said in quiet unison after a brief moment of silence, each, without realising, meaning something slightly different.

Rocky found this hilarious, and would probably have rolled around laughing if she were not balancing rather precariously on the rooftop. Constance merely shot a sideways glance at her, suppressing a small grin.

"I do feel that you've been avoiding me a bit though, I've barely seen you at all today."

There was a longer moment of silence as Constance continued to battle with herself over the rationality of partly believing Enid Nightshade's ridiculous rumours.

"You can sense people's thoughts can't you?"

"I _can_ do it if I need to. But I try not to," Rocky confessed, not wanting to lie to her, "Too much knowledge can be dangerous, but not as dangerous as too little respect"

Constance felt slightly more at ease hearing this. Perhaps Rocky didn't know anything after all. But she still wasn't too sure.

"I haven't used it properly in years, but sometimes I accidentally catch glimpses, usually just like a flash of particularly strong emotions" she noticed that Constance was still avoiding her gaze, "Don't worry," she tried to be reassuring; "I have a lot of respect for you. I haven't been snooping into your thoughts, nor do I intend to, if that's what you're worried about"

"Then how can you possibly know whether I am worried?" Constance asked, sounding as though she was half-serious and half-teasing.

"Would you be asking if you were not worried?"

Cold darkness began to fall as they both sat silently for a few more moments. Rocky summoned her own cloak rather easily, and then unsuccessfully conjured a spare; it turned out more like a carrier bag. Giving up, she sighed and zapped it again.

"Why are you so bad at magic, sometimes?" Constance sighed, brushing a speck of dust off her sleeve.

"Why are you so mean, sometimes?" Rocky laughed, offering the cloak she had managed to summon effectively, "I don't know, what would you say? Bad memory? Not enough concentration and practice and discipline?" She waved a hand, passively as Constance took the cloak, surprised by the sheer weight of the garment.

"The things I do, I do well, though," she added, instantly conjuring a magic energy orb, realising that she was cold immediately after allowing Constance to wear her cloak.

"Where _did_ you find the spell for that?" Constance asked slightly curiously, wondering how she might have missed it in her own studies, never mind her extensive academic studies.

"I didn't," Rocky confessed, "They're not approved magic at all, I created them for my college project. I can make these orbs perfectly, but I've never needed to conjure a cloak...I might not be the master of all things magical, but in my mind that's fine as long as we can each do what we need to do."

In that instant, it was possible that neither witch completely understood the implications of those words for the other. They both knew how it was to hear death's call at nightfall. But they had also learnt that some of the greatest things appeared to look their best in the gathering darkness. The orb seemed to shimmer against the backdrop of grey clouds and faint silvery stars, and their gaze was transfixed for a rather long moment.


	8. Chapter 7

"Miss Hardbroom's shouting at your sixth years," Miss Bat mumbled. She had appeared to be staring absent-mindedly out of the window, but was actually taking note of what was happening out there.

"Ah, she'll sort them out. What did they do?" Rocky sighed, not bothering to get up and look for herself. "Miss Bat?"

"Looked like maybe duelling," said Miss Drill, noticing that Miss Bat was not paying attention. "I've been reading about witch duels, some of the historic stuff is really quite fascinating. You know, I sometimes wish I could just- ZAP!" She mimed casting a spell.

"Yeah, they're glamorous until you've actually seen one..." Rocky muttered.

"Depends on the scariness of your opponent, I suppose... Who would you rather face in a duel though, Rocky?" Imogen was oddly interested in duelling and was deliberately trying to keep Rocky interested in the conversation; maybe there was some attractive quality to it for a non-witch, "Constance or Mistress Broomhead?"

"Oooh..." Rocky mused, "Broomhead"

Imogen hadn't expected that, "Really? Why? Judging by Constance's reaction to her, I-"

"No," Rocky shook her head, "Constance Hardbroom is a very powerful witch. I know we bicker with her like hell sometimes, but I wouldn't want to fight her in a real witches' duel"

"I'd say you and Constance are pretty equal, magic-wise" Amelia looked up from marking her second years' spells homework, having been half-paying attention.

"She's got a lot more skill and control than me though," Rocky reasoned with a slight smile, "She'd have me in seconds... I'd take Hecate _Bumcrack_ though, any day of the week and win"

Constance materialized in the midst of their chuckles, looking as though she was attempting to hide a slight smirk, almost as though she had heard the end of the conversation.

"You," she looked straight at Rocky, "Need to make sure your girls behave tomorrow. I am deadly serious. If Mistress Broomhead finds anything, _anything_ out of line..." Rocky thought she saw a slight twitch in the potions teacher's hand.

"I'll speak to them, Miss Hardbroom," she said with conviction, "They will know to be on their best behaviour or else. Are you...alright? About tomorrow, I mean?"

"Perfectly fine," she replied with a curt nod, hanging up her cloak much more neatly than Rocky had done with hers.

"Constance," Amelia spoke sternly, "I'm glad you've appeared. This book...has been moved again," she gestured toward an old, heavy-looking volume she had placed on the table earlier.

"Well I certainly didn't put it _there_" the deputy sounded rather defensive, "But I suppose I'm _morally _obliged to tell you that you're all under a spell. I have cast the Beholders' Spell."

Amelia stood up; her eyes wide with what could have been any mixture of surprise, anger or fear, but Rocky sensed it was disbelief.

"We will each simply see what we need to see," Constance added, shrugging slightly as she hung up her cloak. Rocky suddenly turned to look at her again, feeling the familiarity of those words.

"Just for the visit, Constance?" Amelia did not seem to approve of this extraordinary magic, "The kind of magic in this book... you know how dangerous it could be; there could be any number of loopholes!"

"It is done, headmistress," she sighed, taking a seat beside Rocky, "The spell will last until Friday morning. I can assure you that_ I_ will deal with anything occurring via any _loopholes_"

Amelia gave up the argument; although she did not approve of such magic, she couldn't help but trust her infallible deputy. When it came down to it, Constance always knew what she was doing.

"Speaking of loopholes," Constance whispered to Rocky, barely audibly, "Witch college projects become certified, approved magic upon graduation."

"Yeah they do," Rocky calmly whispered back, taking an extra piece of bread and preparing to leave the room, "You've got logic as well as magic, Constance, work it out."


	9. Chapter 8

Rocky was glad to see Mistress Broomhead's departure, and she was sure that she was not the only one. The late night's thundery skies were all that was leftover from the storm that had surrounded the castle all day. It had not been a particularly enjoyable day; everyone had been 'on edge' throughout. Although by all accounts, the visit had not been quite as unpleasant as previous ones. Mistress Broomhead had been presented with a well-functioning and acceptable witchcraft school. _Perhaps Constance's spell had something to do with that. _It was a very elaborate spell, and Constance had executed it impressively well. Rocky doubted that she would have noticed the effects of it had she not been told about the spell. The only thing she had really noticed was that she had noticed Constance a lot more than usual that day. Perhaps it was because she was checking up on everyone during the inspection; perhaps it was psychological, because Constance now knew Rocky's second most-guarded secret; or perhaps she simply needed to see something.

* * *

"D'you think something odd's been going on today?" Mildred pondered aloud.

"Like what?" asked Enid.

"I don't know... everything seemed to go really well," she replied, "I even got my ingredients completely right in potions class!"

"That isn't necessarily a bad thing, Millie," Maud pointed out, "You should be pleased that it went well, especially with Broomhead here"

"That's the thing though," said Mildred, "She didn't even try to do anything to the school or any of us or... anything"

"Well she can't do if she didn't find anything wrong," Maud sighed, "Let's just be glad about it"

* * *

"Urgh," Rocky sighed as she entered the staffroom that evening, "What a hideous day..." she zapped off her uncomfortable heels, carelessly flung her cloak into the empty chair beside the door and rubbed a hand across her face before noticing the petrified look on Imogen's face.

"What's up?" she asked, startled.

"It... she..." Imogen stammered shakily. Giving up on speaking, she gestured towards Miss Hardbroom, who was slumped against the side of the fireplace, hidden from Rocky's immediate view by the other armchair. Moving quickly forward, Rocky noticed her usually immaculate hair hanging loosely, her closed eyes, and the trickle of ruby-red blood running across her beautiful face.

"Oh my-" Rocky breathed, "What happened to her?" She knelt down on the hearth beside her, reaching for her tightly clenched hands.

"She's not- I- I couldn't wake her up... It was Broomhead she- Constance w-wasn't looking and she-" Imogen seemed too panicked, giving Rocky the feeling that this was a consequence of some kind of magic that the non-witch did not really understand.

"Calm down, Imogen, tell me what happened"

"M-mistress Broomhead, she came back in here, I don't th-think she realised that I w-was over there and- and Constance was watching the storm out of the window- she wasn't even looking and Broomhead cast a spell right at her... Then she left and I d-didn't know what to do" Tears were now falling rapidly down Imogen's cheeks; she had felt so helpless.

"Flaming coward," Rocky spat as she moved closer to Constance, feeling her icy pale skin. "Imogen...d'you remember what the spell was?"

"I- I didn't hear, she didn't say anything out loud, she just..." Imogen perched on the chair she had been holding for support, "It was something awful though, I could tell... She looked like she was in so much pain, but I think she was trying to fight it... I didn't know how to help..."

Rocky knew then what kind of magic this was. The spell was possibly the worst spell she knew. It was known to cause excruciating pain, both physical and mental; she couldn't imagine why anyone would want to use such a vicious weapon on the deputy headmistress, especially with such vile technique as casting while her back was turned. _Pure cowardice._ Imogen had been right though; Constance was definitely fighting the torturous spell. Most people would have been reduced to near-nothingness by such evil magic, but not Constance Hardbroom. Rocky saw a slight movement in her eyes, and felt pain in her own self as she caught a flash of someone else's mind. _This was not the first time Constance had fought that spell. _Rocky moved the witch's thin body closer, resting her heavy head on her shoulder, wrapping an arm around her and using the other hand to magically heal the cut on her face.

"It's ok," she whispered softly, "I'm here"

Imogen continued to bite her lip as she nervously watched Rocky trying to help Constance.

_A younger Constance stood facing her tutor as torture and pain was hurled towards her in a magical form. She stumbled slightly as it hit her but she quickly resumed her rigid stance. It was almost like defiance; she refused to show any sign of weakness. The dark witch was tragically well-practised at fighting the evil spell. Not so much now, though. It had been a long time since then, and the present Constance had not expected it this time. She had been unprepared. But she could feel a warm source of magic now by her side, helping-STOP IT!_

Rocky felt a pang of guilt as the presence of herself in the thoughts she had inadvertently invaded made her stop looking. She had let herself feel for Constance in her time of pain. But she was feeling too much. She felt a shiver as she realised that a loophole to Constance's spell had allowed Mistress Broomhead to see what she had needed to see; it had allowed her an irrational reason to punish Constance. She let her head rest against the cold stone wall as she held her colleague in her arms. She needed to distract herself; to stop herself from accidentally prying into Constance's mind again.

"Imogen?" she remembered the non-witch's presence.

Imogen looked up from her hands in response, taking a rather slow deep breath. "Please tell me it's not one of those 'sit and wait' situations. I simply couldn't bear it"

"I honestly couldn't say, Imogen. All I can do for now is stay close and...hopefully she's using my magic as well, it'll help her fight it."

"You're a witch... Can't you... can't you do a spell or something?"

"That's the thing. That spell, it's not just physical pain. It brings all the bad things out. It's not just the effects of the spell itself, but the effects of its effects, so to speak. She has a lot to fight against. You could kill with magic like this."

Imogen gasped in horror.

"Constance is going to be alright though? She keeps moving her eyes a little, now and then... I can see."

"I think so..." Rocky only hoped that she was right. "She's so strong. I can feel her fighting but it's difficult, she might need more help when she comes round"

"Like what?" asked Imogen, wanting to help "Is there anything I can... What will she be like?"

"I can't say for certain, I mean, I don't know if she can throw it off completely, but I reckon that if there are after-effects, they would be at least pain and misery"

"Have you come across this kind of thing before?" Imogen asked, unsure as to whether she really wanted to know the answer.

"Twice," Rocky answered truthfully, looking away from Imogen's gaze in sorrow as that was as much of the truth she could tell, "A long time ago, the Great Magic Quarrels. The first was suspected to be a non-witch, she was killed instantly. Second one was put down as a survivor but the spell made her suicidal, she cursed herself into oblivion."

They sat for a while in silence, each pondering the atrocities they had witnessed.

"So brutal," Imogen shook her head as tears formed in her eyes, "I can't even begin to understand why such a horrid spell even exists!"

"There's an awful lot of evil magic out there, Imogen," said Rocky with a deep sigh.

Imogen sighed too. "I suppose it's not the magic itself that's evil, but the witches who use it in such a way?"

Rocky looked back at her in surprise; it was not something she had expected to hear from a non-witch.

"Just something Constance said once," She explained, noticing Rocky's look, "_It's not just magic that makes a witch?_ Something like that. I suppose I didn't really understand what she meant at the time..." she paused briefly, noticing a slight movement of Constance's hand, before addressing the thought that had just occurred to her. "Rocky... you don't think that Mistress Broomhead has done this kind of thing before... to Constance, I mean?"

"I couldn't possibly say," Rocky was determined not to give away anything that Constance regarded as a secret, "and we certainly wouldn't do well to speculate... I tell you what though, run to the potions lab and see if she has any Ida Potion stored would you?"

"Ida Potion? What does that do?"

"It's just a thought..." said Rocky slowly, "But it might help her to numb the feelings a bit if she-"

"Ok" Imogen quickly stood up, comprehension dawning on her face before Rocky could bear to even finish the sentence. She was desperately keen to help in any way that she could, "I'll be as quick as I can"

The room fell to silence as the sports mistress left and Rocky sighed. As she stroked Constance's ruffled dark hair, she felt another slight movement against her shoulder.

"Rock-key" A croaked mumble broke the silence.

"I'm with you," Rocky soothed, holding her friend more tightly now "I'm right here."


	10. Chapter 9

Constance could barely remember what had happened, but was intelligent enough to be able to put the pieces together. The presence of her worst nightmare coupled with the way she was feeling. _The way she was feeling. _She had not felt like this in such a long time; she must have been _out of practice_. She knew she could fight, but as she began to come back into consciousness, she noticed her shaking hands; a sign, she knew that she had barely coped this time. Her body still felt pain where it did not belong; her mind filled with rotten thoughts that were not altogether hers. She was struck by a realisation of the pointlessness of her own existence. She was lost in confusion and tingling agony. But she also felt something else. Something that, in the midst of all this horror, was _unfamiliar. _She could feel someone with her, helping her, comforting her, _caring for her_.

"_It's ok... I'm here... I'm with you... It's ok... I'm right here..."_

The words echoed through her clouded mind, she felt as though they would be incomprehensible even if she were not in her current, hazy state of mind. Rocky Fluxweed was a decent-enough witch when she was not being clumsy and annoying, but she certainly did not care for her. She tried to move but her limbs were slow and uncoordinated. She managed to move a hand to her face, and began to breathe more heavily. Feeling someone else's hand take hold of her own, she slowly opened her eyes.

"Hey," The sight of Rocky's expression was somewhat sickening. Constance never wanted to be seen in this state; she knew how much of a mess she must have looked. She gathered all the energy she could find within herself and attempted to stand, stumbling into the back of a chair in an uncharacteristically undignified manner.

"Hey, take it easy" Rocky said, catching the other witch's arm, "Here, let me help you"

Constance reluctantly leant on her colleague for support, and was guided to sit in the chair, now trembling more than ever. Rocky moved another chair so that she could continue to sit beside Constance, who swallowed hard and was trying to avoid Rocky's gaze; she had no idea what to try to say. They sat in silence for a moment. Eventually, Constance looked up, ready to speak.

"Don't leave me," she whispered, although she had thought her intentions were to say the exact opposite.


	11. Chapter 10

"There was one loophole I didn't think of," Constance said weakly, as she realised how she had been hurt, "I was so stupid not to see it"

Before Rocky could ask anything, Imogen returned with the bottle of Ida Potion. The non-witch was relieved to see that Constance was awake and speaking to Rocky. She smiled slightly to herself as she quietly closed the door and placed the bottle on the small table.

"What's that?" Constance asked rather suspiciously, narrowing her eyes as she tried to turn to watch Imogen. The after-effects of the spell were making her feel paranoid and wary, as well as utterly miserable and uncomfortable.

"It's just Ida Potion, Constance," Rocky explained, "I asked Imogen to fetch it for you, it was the only magic I thought of that might help"

"Why should I trust either of you? What's the point in either of you? You!" she suddenly glared at Rocky, pointing a finger in her face, "You were expelled! What do you know about potions, let alone about the effects of this wretched spell?" she snarled angrily.

"Just try it, Constance," Imogen said, pouring some of the potion into a small glass and offering it. Constance refused to take the drink and shifted her glare between the other two women like a small animal that had just been cornered by predators. Rocky had felt hurt by Constance's words, but knew that she needed help, so she took the cup and gently placed it in Constance's hands.

"Just one sip," she said softly, "If you don't feel any better, then we won't give you any more. I promise." She held up her casting fingers as an attempt at a mark of honesty.

_I suppose it doesn't matter what they do to me, now._ Still glaring at the other two, the potions mistress reluctantly placed the glass to her lips and took a very small sip, before handing it quickly back to Imogen. Rocky felt slightly disheartened, thinking that it hadn't been able to help.

"Actually," Constance spoke again, her voice now sounding slightly more like her usual infallible self. She snatched the glass back and drained the rest of its contents.

Both Rocky and Imogen let out a short laugh, probably a result of mixed surprise and relief.

"What?" Constance looked slightly surprised at their reaction as she leant to stand the glass on the table.

* * *

"Well," she breathed, still fidgeting uncomfortably, "That cleared my thoughts!"

"How do you feel...otherwise?" asked Imogen with a concerned look. "And don't be telling me any lies, I know you," she added with a smile.

The witch now appeared much more like her flawless self, in spite of the slightly ruffled hair and the fact that she looked to be rather uncomfortable.

"I'm-" Constance sighed, "Yes, alright, alright. I do feel a bit...not quite here. But there's nothing else for it, so I'd appreciate it if the two of you didn't twitter on trying to think of anything. I think it might be a good idea if I were to just...go to bed."

She stood, albeit a little unsteadily and looked around her at the mess that Imogen was now slowly beginning to tidy. She supposed that had been caused by whatever magic she had managed to deflect before taking the brunt of the hit. She took a few wobbly steps before standing still and folding her arms in her trademark stance, deciding that she may be better off moving by magic at this time. Unfortunately, she then remembered yet another of the dratted spell's effects; one that it pained her above everything else to have to admit.

"I- ah, I think my magic's a little exhausted," she whispered, horrified and staring at her own feet in shame.

Rocky instantly knew the extreme difficulty that any witch of Constance's calibre would have had in saying just those few particular words, and could sense her feeling of embarrassment. Overcome in yet another moment of huge compassion, she instinctively stepped forward and took Constance's arm, transporting them both smoothly to outside Constance's room. Constance immediately looked up in surprise, momentarily forgetting her own embarrassment.

"So you _can_ do it with dignity!" There was a tone of amazement in her voice.

"Apparently so" Rocky was a little surprised, herself. Perhaps, she thought, feeling the need to keep Constance in her so desperately desired state of dignity had transferred into her usually chaotic transportation magic. She conjured one of her little energy orbs and handed it to Constance who, despite being several inches taller than her, had looked particularly forlorn in that moment. She reached up and gave her a light hug without realising that she normally wouldn't dare to touch the taller witch.

"Go and get some sleep," she said as she stepped away a minute later, "I'll be around if you need anything"


	12. Chapter 11

Rocky yawned widely as she began to make the morning tea. Ordinarily she wouldn't have been awake for another two hours or so, and she shivered slightly, wondering why the castle seemed so cold.

"Good morning, Miss Fluxweed, and might I say that you're up rather early!"

Rocky turned around, actually surprised that she hadn't dropped anything in surprise. She knew exactly whose voice that was, but chose to act otherwise.

"Miss Hardbroom!" She was astounded to see the witch looking, if possible, more perfect than ever, "I ah, I didn't actually go to sleep" She thought that sounded better than _'I sat invisibly on the floor by your side for most of the night'_

"Miss Cackle tells me that that's a rather unhealthy habit," said Constance, moving around the table to reach the drink Rocky had just poured for her.

"I won't be making a habit of it," Rocky smiled, "My mind was a bit muddley, that's all... You ah- Constance, you appear to be being followed!" She had noticed several, smaller-than-usual energy orbs following Constance around the room.

"Ah, yes," Constance scowled at them hovering over her shoulder, "Before I came downstairs I was um- playing with the one you gave me last night and it appears to have... bred..."

Rocky gave an amused snigger as she collected the warm orbs from the air and they became one again.

"If you do this," she sharply flicked her hands towards the orb, "it splits... and if you scoop them together... they merge again"

A rare wide smile covered Constance's face as she watched.

"They really are somewhat impressive," she admitted quietly.

Rocky grinned as she took a seat at the table, hanging the orb back in the air and casually using its heat to toast the slice of bread she had speared with a fork. Constance helped herself to another dose of the Ida Potion, which she tipped nonchalantly into her tea. Rocky wondered whether she should ask Constance about the events of the previous night, but the other witch spoke first.

"Why _were_ you expelled, Rocky?"

"Constance," she met her gaze across the table, hesitating slightly but feeling that she owed her honesty in return for the secrets she had unintentionally gleaned from her colleague's thoughts, "I trust that this is just between the two of us?"

"Of course," Constance nodded.

"You're about the same age as me," Rocky took a deep breath; "You remember what it was like when the Magic Quarrels were going on?"

"One of the reasons I _stayed_ in college"

"Maybe you're a couple of years on me then. I was expelled in first year, so I was sent to work in the aftermath. I was in the position of telling people that their relative had been tortured to death"

Constance fiddled with her teacup, remembering the terrible things that such young witches had been made to do during, and after the Great Magic Quarrels; remembering her fears about what she would be required to do if the Quarrels were not over once she had graduated.

"Lucky for me, it was almost over by that time. I only had to do it twice, but I still remember." She twirled the fork in her fingers for a moment before adding, "Helga Hubble and Zelda Hallow."

Staring into her drink for a moment, Rocky realised that Constance was probably wondering what this had to do with her expulsion from Witch College; she split the slice of toast with the edge of the fork and pushed half of it across the table.

"That," she sighed, "Was _after _I got expelled. But it wasn't my first experience with the Quarrels. Something happened to me long before I even finished school. Something that made it hard – that _still_ makes it hard for me to follow other people's rules and requests. You know what college tutors can be like, Constance. By the time I started college, I was apparently fine. But I was still over-compensating for the mess I'd been in before that. I just couldn't deal with it. Ultimately, so-called disobedience was my downfall"

There was silence as Constance over-thought what she wanted to say in response.

"Would it be too much to ask what the 'something' was?" Constance spoke somewhat cautiously.

"Right now it would, but maybe another time..." Rocky ate the last piece of her toast in a single bite, forcing a grin as she poured more tea. She had not exactly lied, but she had not told the entire truth either. She knew that no amount of showing her true colours would make up for the _something_.

Constance was not an insensitive woman, she could tell that there was darkness in Rocky's past, and it was her who changed the subject again.

"Have you spoken to anyone about what happened last night?"

"No," Rocky replied, truthfully, she had not left Constance's side until she had awoken and Rocky had dematerialized to make the tea, "Would you- would you like me to tell Miss Cackle?"

Constance shook her head in her usual dismissive way, saying, "I see no reason to worry her"

Rocky looked at her doubtfully for a moment before agreeing to keep the secret.

* * *

Rocky and Constance stared at Imogen in shock; she had just reported the news that a certain inspector would be returning to Cackle's Academy the following morning.

"Shall we do a runner?" Rocky suggested, trying in vain to make light of the situation.

Constance shook her head. "We couldn't-"

"You couldn't!" Imogen loudly interrupted, pointing at Rocky, "It's you she's coming back for! Apparently there's 'something about you' that she wants to investigate further."

Imogen took her seat at the table, brushing some toast crumbs off the tablecloth.

"What d'you mean, something about me... How d'you mean, something ab... What?" Rocky stammered. "She can't investigate me, if I so much as see her I might just fling a string of curses at her after..." she glanced sideways at Constance.

"I know," Imogen sighed, "Me too"

"What could you do?" said Constance, looking incredulously at the non-witch.

"I don't need magic to punch her in the face!" she said, half-jokingly, "Seriously, though, Rocky, you'd better behave yourself...what could she possibly want with you, anyway?"

Rocky held up her hands and shook her head in disbelief; she could not imagine what it could be.

"_She knows_," Constance whispered, "You helped me last night and she _knows,_" she stood up, pacing around as her agitated mind tried to work it out, "Rocky, what if- oh, _you absolute fool_! What if she can do that thing with thoughts like you can? You _have_ to act like you hate me, otherwise-"

"Constance, she can't," Rocky calmly interrupted, "I'm completely sure that she just gives an impression that she can. She's nothing but an unmanageably angry, self-righteous-"

"You can't risk it, you mustn't be associated-"

"_Anyway, acting wouldn't do it if it were thoughts_! I'm telling you, she might be a meticulous observer, but she's just that. She's definitely into behaviour, but she's not in your thoughts!" Rocky truly believed what she was trying to tell her colleague. "She's just not good enough"

Constance was now gripping the edge of the fireplace as she spoke, "You don't know what she's capable of, Rocky, she-"

Rocky walked to stand with Constance and took her hands. Constance's eyes flashed with what could have been surprise or anger; she was far too close for comfort.

"I know what she's done to you," she whispered, "And not just the spell, is it? You can't let her get to you, Constance."

The taller witch reclaimed her hands and looked away, feeling truth in the words she was hearing.

"Constance, I have a huge web of secrets. It's highly unlikely that this will lie purely on an association with you."

Imogen looked perplexed; she had no idea what Rocky was talking about.

"Just promise me you'll keep a distance though, I don't want to put you in her way and I'm quite likely to piss her off. I'm certainly not giving her what she wants."


	13. Chapter 12

Rocky had been right. She didn't need to use thought invasion to see that Mistress Broomhead did not seem to be targeting her because she was affiliated with her former student. She had been particularly interested in Rocky's background; her education and her magical heritage. But parallel to her carefully constructed web of secrets, there was an equally elaborate web of deception, and to Broomhead's dissatisfaction, there were no loopholes in Rocky's web; there was nothing left to criticise. She had a perfectly conjured set of lies, counterfeit certificates and proof of a basic magical heritage.

Unfortunately, Rocky had been right twice. The old woman was a bad loser, and in her temper, her first thought was to punish someone when she was unable to find anything to use against Rocky.

Rocky focussed on the older woman's thoughts, struggling to keep up with her physically as she swept along the corridor. As she entered the great hall, her eyes settled on some particularly neatly-coiled hair across the room.

"NO!" Rocky appeared in front of her, seconds later, and knowing what the witch had been thinking, cast a protective wall between them and the other occupants of the hall who looked to have been practising a play. Constance whipped around instinctively, moving forward to take a defensive position in front of the students.

Hecate let out a short, malicious laugh.

"How sickly sweet," she said mockingly, "Been getting cosy and swapping secrets? Rubbish little witch like you, hoping to be something you're not?" Her glare returned to Rocky as she sneered; she was not afraid to challenge a witch with such patchy magical skills, "I challenge you, pathetic freak, a witches' duel, and you know what my prize shall be..." Her gaze flickered and briefly met with Constance's.

Constance let out a sharp gasp of horror. _She was certainly not an object to be won in a duel! _She was horrified; wholeheartedly hoping that Rocky would not accept such a risk. She silently cursed the clumsy witch's seemingly naive nature. Constance had just got used to the idea that she might have meant something to someone, and now Rocky was not only placing herself in incredible danger, but offering Constance up as bait.

"How dare you assume that I am anything like you? I'm not the one hoping, here! But I accept your challenge, and when you lose," Rocky spoke through gritted teeth, "You are to stay well away from Constance Hardbroom, and from this school and everyone associated with it, and you are _never _to use magic in such an evil, twisted, torturous way ever again." She stepped back, preparing to take a better stance and position for duelling, "Witches' code, I believe, law seventeen: no retaliation if you lose an agreed witches' duel."

"So be it" Hecate sneered arrogantly, "Prepare to give your _precious Constance_ as my victory prize!"

"_Why?"_ thought Constance, determined not to show the tears she could feel prickling her eyes "_Why the hell would you do this to me?"_

Constance tried to gulp, but her mouth was too dry. There was nothing she could do. A duel could not be stopped once the agreement had been made. She watched helplessly as some of the older students transformed the magical shield into a dome to protect onlookers from the duel spells. Just Rocky and Mistress Broomhead remained within the holographic dome they had constructed. Rocky had zapped her shoes again; she had decided against fighting in heels. She glanced to her left, noticing Constance outside of the dome looking, if it were possible, several shades paler than usual.

_I'm sorry._ Constance felt the words almost as though she had heard them, and seeing Rocky's face, she knew that she must have been the source of that feeling. "_Stop looking at me and win this bloody thing" _she thought repeatedly, just in case Rocky's mind was on her thoughts. But it wasn't. Rocky knew that her magic could easily win this battle, but she wasn't arrogant about it.

Before anyone realised the duel had started, Rocky had already swiftly deflected a spell.

"No you don't!" she spat, glaring at Hecate before returning the attack, "I know your _filthy_ behind-the-back tactics!"

Blue and red sparks of magic soared between the duellers. Had it been a firework display, it would have been impressive. But to Constance, and the majority of the students, it was a terrifying battle scene.

The attacks increased in both frequency and force, as Rocky became more infuriated with her challenger. She caught Hecate sneaking evil looks towards where she knew Constance was standing, and her mind was infiltrated by the older woman's malicious thoughts. This made Rocky more determined than ever, as she advanced across the base of the dome towards her prey.

In her arrogance and distraction, Hecate lost her concentration. She was hit by a tripping spell while shooting yet another malicious glare at Constance. Bound to the floor by Rocky's magic, she stared up at her opponent with newfound fear. She realised that she was unlikely to escape this, and now even less likely to win. Still, she refused to submit.

Simultaneously, Rocky knew that victory was hers. It would be surprising if there was anyone in the world who didn't feel at least a part of the anger that was so apparent in her eyes. In the last moment of the fight, a strange glint passed through her eyes, like the sight of bloodstained metal as she cast the final spell. She stood above her weakened prey, and whispered words that were all too familiar to Constance's ears. A sharp shriek filled the air. Constance dematerialised before she had the chance to see any more, but she knew what had been done; Hecate Broomhead had finally tasted her own vicious poison.

The dome crumbled like shattering glass as the fight was won. Other teachers and pupils had been attracted to the hall by the sounds of the fight. It was a small feat that Hecate Broomhead was almost instantly magically escorted from the school by several of the now large group of onlookers. Rocky turned to find her sixth years behind her.

"That was extreme! Totally amazing!" Griselda shrieked as Rocky ran stressed fingers through her own hair.

"Where's Miss Hardbroom?" Rocky asked, concerned.

"She's-" Mags turned around, "She was right there a moment ago"


	14. Chapter 13

"Constance?" Rocky tapped on the door, "Constance, are you there?"

When there was no reply, Rocky tried the door and was very surprised to find that it was unlocked. She pushed it open slightly, just enough to see that the room was empty.

"After my possessions now that you've won my soul?" A shiver ran down Rocky's spine as she heard the cold voice of Constance, who had just appeared behind her.

"Constance," she breathed, "I was- I just wanted to find you. You disappeared"

"I'm perfectly aware of that fact," she said with her usual lack of expression.

"Are you ok?"

"Perfectly fine." The taller witch spoke tersely. "Although you are in my way"

"Sorry," Rocky stepped to the side, "I am sorry, Constance, I know you're not happy about what I just did"

"Not happy?" Constance turned, "I'm absolutely furious with you!"

"I know. I shouldn't have put you on the line like that. I had no right."

"Then whatever _possessed_ you to do it?"

"I- I just- I knew I could beat her, I'm not weak like she thought. It was my chance to get rid of her. I know what kind of witch she is and she challenged me because she didn't think I'd have a chance, but I knew I did... You never have to worry about her again, now Const-"

"And in defeating her, you've revealed yourself to be just as capable as her of such atrocious magic. _Congratulations._" She added the last word with heavily emphasised sarcasm.

"Constance," Rocky realised then why the spell she had used had evoked such anger, "I'm not like that; you know I would _never_ use that under normal circumstances!"

"Unfortunately, it appears that I am uncertain as to what I do or do not know about you. She said you're hoping to be something that you're not, and that's exactly what the two of you have in comm-"

"Constance-"

"No. Do not insult me with your excuses!"

"I- Constance, please-"

"Just- Stay away from me!"

With that, Rocky was pushed magically from the room and the door swung shut in her face.


	15. Chapter 14

Constance stood for a moment with her back pressed firmly against the door. She let out a long, slow breath as she slid down to sit on the floor. Burying her head in her hands, she wished that she had reacted differently. She had used anger as a mask for the intense fear and confusion she had experienced. She was frightened by the magic she had seen, by the glint she had seen in Rocky's eyes, but most of all by the thought that she might have been fooled by yet another jealous and power-seeking witch. She could barely comprehend the feeling that she was free from Hecate Broomhead. She did not feel free as such. She still had Rocky to deal with.

Just two nights ago, Rocky had held Constance in her arms; she had felt safe and cared for. But now...

* * *

Rocky angrily removed her gloves and flung them onto the tiles beside her; her exposed hands picked stones from the roof and she began throwing them miserably into the gutter. '_Everyone always assumes I'm up to something,' _she thought angrily. The roof was Constance's solitude spot; Rocky realised that she would probably be annoyed if she were to go up there now and find her there. She didn't care about that though; she would prefer Constance to shout at her than to say nothing at all.

* * *

Constance punished herself for not noticing anything earlier. _No wonder she was expelled! How could she ever have thought that Rocky was a good witch?_ Although, she had always appeared good previously; Constance had no other reason to believe that she was evil. She could see now, that Rocky was an excellent actor. An excellent _liar_. And Constance was devastated to realise that in allowing herself to want someone to care about her, she had allowed herself to be fooled by those lies. _Clouded reasoning?_ She questioned her own judgement, allowing a single tear to fall.

"_Nothing's truly untouchable, isn't that right, Miss Hardbroom?"_

Through her self-generated pain, she saw Rocky's face in her mind's eye. As something that sounded like hail began to fall outside, Constance was struck by an impossible idea.


	16. Chapter 15

Rocky had bewitched the pebbles to pelt against each other and bounce on the roof. She was disgruntled, and so was her spellcasting.

"I get this sense that I'm not the only one with a target painted on their name"

Rocky was startled by Constance's sudden appearance on the slates beside her.

"Constance!" Rocky was surprised but pleased to see her, "What're you-"

"I think..." Constance settled on the rooftop next to Rocky, "That _something_ you didn't want to tell me about, I think, _possession_. When you did that spell... I... I saw something in your eyes..."

Rocky immediately felt cornered, more so when she noticed Constance glance at her exposed hands. She shifted her gaze away from Constance and to the roof slates, expecting that this discovery would frighten Constance.

Constance took a moment to observe an intricate but deep pattern of scars that she knew she was never meant to see.

"Thoughts can leave pretty deep scars," she said, with a soft sadness evident in her voice.

"How did you-"

"Your eyes." Constance spoke with intriguing calmness, as though explaining something simple to a student, "Stained steel? Like you told Imogen, steel magic is _almost_ untouchable. Almost. The only way you can get stains like that...would be if a steel witch was possessed by something evil. Once I made that connection, it made sense. You hide your heritage well." She sat down beside Rocky, "I was frightened that you were not the witch I thought you were. I don't make mistakes like that. But there's definitely something about you, to make you capable of what you did, and that's what I think it is."

"Do you know everything?" Rocky grinned, momentarily forgetting her anxiety.

"Probably." Constance said with a slight sadness, rather than the pride Rocky thought it should deserve. "I know that certain things can't be...fixed..."

"I know," sighed Rocky, scratching a line across the back of her hand, "It's like venom still hiding in my blood after all these years."

"You are silver steel then, aren't you?" Constance sighed as Rocky nodded slightly, "I'm really sorry"

"What?" Rocky had expected to say those last words, rather than hear them.

"You hide it well. Broomhead wasn't the only one you fooled, I mean, there was a moment before, when I thought there was something more about you, or that you knew something of me, but I dismissed it." She stared at her own pale hands for a moment before continuing, "What she said before challenging you, I thought... I'm so sorry, Rocky, I th-"

"It's ok, Constance," Rocky said softly, "I know how it must have looked." She paused, "I suppose if it made you feel better you could think that it wasn't the real me that cast that spell in there. It's just - I knew what she was thinking... I was so angry at her... I know what she did to you, Constance." She felt it better that she admit what she knew. "But the rational side of me doesn't do dark magic like that."

"How do you know what she did?" asked Constance, knowing that her colleague knew more than the past week's events.

"I didn't mean to," Rocky said quietly, "In fact, it was probably your spell. I suppose that I saw what I needed to see."

"The thought thing? Does _that_ count as a loophole?" Constance raised her eyebrows.

"Little bit," Rocky nodded, "But neither of us could've known before"

"Can I ask something else?" Constance almost whispered, fiddling with the end of her sleeves.

Rocky made a movement somewhere between a shrug and a nod, and she continued.

"This connection you have, the thoughts and the feelings," Constance hesitated, "You – you didn't always have it?"

Rocky shook her head slowly, "Not before I was possessed. You can't have that much evil in your mind without it leaving weaknesses and...traces. Evidenced, I suppose, by the likes of what I did today. Maybe only evil beats evil."

"I do not think _you_ are evil. Admittedly, I was confused and frightened, but... I do not think that of you." She paused, "It would explain your infuriating clumsiness though"

"I don't know whether the clumsiness is a side effect or an over-compensation," Rocky smiled, "In the Quarrels, witches like Broomhead took everything. Yes, they possessed my mind but, I managed to survive it. They took out a whole generation of steel witches, just for jealousy."

"Even then the steel was outnumbered. I sneer at the fact that they taught us that steel would rise to glory again in the future. Rocky, I'm-"

"I know," Rocky smiled, taking the other witch's hand again, this time feeling more than just her own cuff, "You and me, Constance, we were brought up in a world that told us to believe, without proof, that there are such things as truth and justice, and that the good will always triumph over the evil. I guess now we know that that is just not true. It all traces back in circles, doesn't it? Every silver lining has a cloud, so to speak"

"It certainly seems that way," Constance sighed, "But maybe neither of us would be who we are without our little demons"

"And we wouldn't want that would we?" Rocky smiled.

Constance looked up and mirrored Rocky's smile, "We most certainly would not"

They sat in silence for a moment.

"You know I'd never have let her take you" Rocky broke the silence.

"I should have known that she'd never have won the duel. I should have realised why you were so confident. She was only ever jealous of me; she's no match for either of us. But I _was_ shocked that you accepted her challenge"

"I wouldn't have duelled if there hadn't been a loophole in her prize request. One thing I have become rather good at over the years is spotting loopholes, and her challenge had a pretty big one."

"Loophole?" Constance looked surprised. "What loophole?"

"It's really quite simple," Rocky glanced sideways, "She wanted me to give you as a prize, right?"

Constance nodded curtly, still slightly confused.

"Well, I couldn't have. You aren't mine to give."

Hearing those words, Constance suddenly felt like she had finally been set free. The words were proof enough that for Rocky, the fight had not been a fight for Constance, the holder of sought-after magical powers, but for Constance, the person. It became clear that Rocky already had all the power she desired, and she did truly care for Constance, possibly because they were so similar, and possibly because they were so different. Deeply, Constance knew that she was the more widely accomplished of the pair, but she had also realised the full meaning of Rocky's philosophy. Rocky may be chaotic and slightly unmasterful at times, but where Constance had taken the bad in times where she had striven to be at her best, Rocky had spent a lifetime fighting against everything. Rocky had practised what she needed to practise; perfected what needed to be perfected; and ultimately done what needed to be done.

"One more question," Constance said quietly, "Why are you called Rocky? I assume it's not your _real_ name?"

Rocky shook her head silently as Constance's lips pursed slightly.

"I suppose you changed it after you escaped the possession? You really do keep such an elaborate web of deception," she sighed.

"Well you know now how much I've had to hide, but if you like," she took a large breath as she held out her right hand, "Magda Mandrake,"

Their spellcasting fingers intertwined as their hands moved closer towards each other.

"I know that witches like us are supposed to want to be on the edge of glory," she glanced towards her companion again, "But I quite like it on this rooftop with you"


	17. SequelSnippets

**_AN_: Firstly, a mahoossive THANKYOU to you if you've made it this far, I had some very good but also some awkward times writing 'loopholes'!**

**I'd love to hear people's thoughts on the story, and the Rocky/Magda character... I won't give cookies because I don't have any, but I do have eternal love for reviewers! :P**

**If I'm happy enough that Rocky isn't a bit of a disaster, there will be a sequel eventually (hopefully soon) so I made another 'snippets' page to keep interest/test the water! The students (well, some of them) will be much more involved in it, and it might just have a few rather dark twists and turns...what secrets still remain hidden?**

* * *

"Here," she said triumphantly, laying her most precious forbidden book on the wooden desk in front of her.

* * *

Her tear-filled eyes were staring avidly at the blank wall in front of her; her right hand clutching the left hand to her chest, shining red blood now streaming down the pale skin of her forearms.

* * *

"There's a reason that _Magda Mandrake_ went off the radar at seventeen"

* * *

A strange emptiness passed briefly through Rocky's mind as Constance cast the spell. She stared blankly for a long moment, marvelling at how quiet the world had just become.

* * *

"You know that edge of glory you mentioned, Constance? Well, this is it."

* * *

The fear spread from the non-witch's face, through the air, filling every space it could reach within the witch. The feeling reawakened the witch she had chosen to be, the one that would fight the one she had been forced to be. A deadly spell crackled through the magic in her blood.

* * *

"It's too late," Constance spoke with a mixture of firmness and intense sorrow, "It's gone; it's too late."


End file.
